His Lost Daughter
by Morgan Sulfur
Summary: The third and last part to the 'His Lost Child' trilogy. After Valkyrie is pulled into the other dimension, she is caught in a endless war. But Valkyrie holds the secret to their deaths in one fragile mind and one little ring. (Don't HAVE to have read the other ones-it just helps)
1. 15 years

**This is a lot different than I usually do, it's definitely darker than any of my other stories and will have mature themes.**

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15 years, 7 months and 13 days. Most people would have forgotten that time existed. But she couldn't. She knew exactly how long she'd been in hell. She could only hope that time in this dimension ran faster than the dimension she had had once called home. She prayed that was true, her partner wouldn't leave her here for that long. If she was wrong it meant that he'd given up on looking for her. When she was truly sad she wondered if he had already found a new partner, did he even still remember she was here?

Her world was now filled with pain, both mental and physical. Has was everyone else's. Their screams of annoy and fear bleed trough the walls at night. Her screams had joined them when she had first arrived, but like everyone else who had given into despair and had given up hope of ever being rescued, she fell silent. As new humans were caught and locked up she wondered how long they'd last before they, also, fell silent. But they still had nightmares and the screaming would start again.

Prisoner No.907 had gotten used to their screams a long time ago.

907's dangling feet barely touched the cold, stone-brick floor. Chains that were attached to the ceiling were keeping 907 in a standing position, at first the chains had just been coated with other people's dried blood. But her blood had soon joined it. She had found it uncomfortable in the beginning to sleep standing up but she had soon adapted.

She had a small window in her cell but there was no point trying to escape trough it because 907 was on 29th floor and the window was to small anyway. Red light was shining through the window and hitting the cold, unyielding bars, making them sparkle. 907 would have found the deep red sky beautiful had she not been viewing it from her chained position in the middle of the room.

She was waiting for them now. The Leera. They always came to take 907 out of her chains as the red sun rises. It had become a signal to her that it was time for more training with the other prisoners. It had taken 907 a long time to gain the others trust; she had appeared out of nowhere after all. Everyone was afraid to show weakness here and in their eyes kindness is a weakness. It also wasn't wise to get to know other prisoners because they could die or be sent off to fight at anytime. It just isn't worth it.

This dimension is at war. When the Leer and the Leera had been banished to this dimension by 907's ancestor, she hadn't sent them to an unpopulated world. The Leer and the Leera had quickly gained power over the humans. But when they had started fighting between themselves for resources, the war began. The Leera turned against the Leer. Both sides started imprisoning humans and training them to be their soldiers. The Leera and the Leer never fought in their own war, the human prisoners were taught to do it for them. The Leera that had slipped through the portal the first time hadn't been trying to open the portal again so more Leera could come out. He was opening it so humans could go in. The Leera are losing and need more soldiers, and when the Leera found himself in a world filled with millions of humans he saw an opportunity. 7 billion humans would win him the war.

907 had been at a disadvantage to most of the other prisoners. They had been training since the age of 8 but 907 had only started training at 12. It wasn't a massive disadvantage, she was still better than some when she first started. Hours and hours of training and harsh punishments when she failed had forced her to catch up. Soon 907 was one of the best. She was trained to use knives, swords and her magic. New skills she never knew she had were discovered. New weapons were suddenly open to her. Her bow was still her choice of weapon, in the other dimension she hadn't been amazing with a bow, but after years of training…she couldn't miss. Old skills, such as her necromancy, she'd had to hide. If the Leera knew she could use that kind of magic she'd have been killed a long time again. Her ring was close though, hidden. 907 didn't mind, she had so many new powers such as creating ice and being able to influence nature, and she still practiced necromancy secretly.

907 loved the new strength and power she had. But there was a cost. Scars covered most of her body. They were visible because she wore very little clothes. A white, long sleeved t-shirt that left her stomach and ribs visible and small black shorts. Her hair had grown a lot in the years she had been here; it was now kept in a long plait that was clipped to one side of her shirt so it couldn't be pulled on the Saturdays' fighting match. It was all against all, winner stayed on. No matter if you were deathly ill or had a serious injury, you fought in the arena. 907 had gotten many injuries from the fight. Deep cuts, internal bleeding, concussions and cracked bones. The leera have a medical room but they don't do much. If you get seriously injured, it's up to you to fix yourself. 907 still had all the scars from the times in the beginning of her imprisonment when she had lost. Long scars marred her back and legs, her wrists are permanently bruised from the chains that held her. If she had been back home Doctor Nye would have been able to get rid of the scars no problem. But 907 wasn't at home.


	2. El dolor de toque

**I told you it was different- darker, than my other stuff. don't say I didn't warn you!**

**Morgan Sulfur xXx**

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907 was woken by screams. She cautiously opened her eyes. No one was around. But the screaming continued. 907's hands wrapped themselves around the chains. Slowly and silently she pulled her body weight up and forward so that her feet were higher than her hands. She placed her bloody feet on either side of the chains and lifted her hands slightly, now that there was no longer any pressure from the chains around her wrist, she could remove her hands. She hung limply upside down for a few minutes listening to the continued screaming. The risk of leaving your cell, as always, was high. Many soldiers do it even though the Leera know. That's why it so easy to leave your cell- they want to catch you. Plus they know that there is no way to leave the actual building.

907 suddenly let go with her feet and landed on her hands, quickly, she flipped herself over. 907 ran to the corner of her cell and took out the lose brick that was hiding a small metal devise. She placed it on the lock of her cell and it sprang to life. Soon the door was unlocked.

Steeping out into the long, stone corridor was an ire experience. It was cold and the light overhead flicked on and off. It's not somewhere you'd want to hang around in.

907 reached the cell where the screaming resonated from. Inside was a girl around 907's age. She was curled in a tight ball, shaking and crying in the corner. Occasionally her hand would fly out and try to fend off an imaginary attacker. 907 once again placed to metal device on the side of the lock and a few seconds later it was unlocked.

At the sound of 907's entrance the girl looked round. The screaming stopped but she continued to cry and shake. "Are you here to save me?" she whispered hoarsely. This was standard procedure. Every time 907 comes in she is always asked the same question.

"There is nothing to save you from this time Annabeth." 907 replied, crouching down in front of her. The desire to lay a comforting hand on her arm hit her, but she knew better than to touch Annabeth now.

907 looked at the cloths Annabeth was wearing, different from hers of course, but that's because she's not a solider. She's just a prisoner. Hence why she has a name and not a number.

Most humans who do not display a natural gift for combat are usually left alone, unless they can be useful in some other way, in the few reaming villages a couple hundred miles from here.

When Annabeth was five the Leera raided to village, they found her. Annabeth, like 907, is a threat to both the leer and the Leera, or she was before her mind was broken. She has the power to enhance other people's power on a massive scale.

907 had been helping her to develop her powers for about a year before Annabeth went insane. And now she wasn't even back to square one. Annabeth rarely knew who she was most days, let alone know that she had the power to stop all of this.

"You're ok, Annabeth, he's not here." 907 quietly reassured her.

"Where is he? Where has the bad man gone?" She whimpered.

"I killed him, Remember?"

"Hurt me."

"Yes he did."

"You tried to stop him, when he was touching me." Annabeth said, clearly starting to recall the events.

"I know. But I found him later"

"YOU WERE SEEN!" Annabeth suddenly screamed. Her eyes were alight with fury. But 907 knew that it wasn't directed at her, but at another solder who betrayed 907.

"I know, I know. She told them that I killed him."

"Your hand." Tears streamed down Annabeth's cheeks as she remembered what her friends punishment was for killing the man who had broken her.

907 smiled sadly. "You don't have to feel bad about that, and besides, I've made do." She spared a glance at the robotic hand that rested on her leg.

"They hurt you." She stated.

"They've hurt us both." 907 countered. "But where're going to stop them one day. Have you tried getting in touch with your magic like I suggested?"

"Magic?" Annabeth asked looking bewildered and lost.

907 sighed. "Never mind. Are you going to be ok if I leave now?"

Annabeth nodded slowly. "Yes, bad man is dead."

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**Originally it was a lot darker, but this isn't rated high enough. I hope it's OK. **

**I was thinking about actually writing about 907's hand being cut off in the next chapter, but I don't know, too graphic? **

**Morgan Sulfur xXx**


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